


Sunday Dress

by idharao



Category: Astaire/Rogers RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-16
Updated: 2012-04-16
Packaged: 2017-11-03 18:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/384326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idharao/pseuds/idharao
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waiting around for a camera rig to be fixed, Fred admires Ginger's Irene Castle Sunday dress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Dress

They end up waiting around for most of the morning instead of blocking because of a problem with the director's rig, right in the middle of a scene. They're left standing around in full costume, unable to change out or go very far until the problem can be resolved and they can resume working.

He pokes her. "You want a smoke?"

"God, yes," she says immediately, gratefully. "Let's get the hell out of here." She moves off with that light step he's always admired, that of an athlete, and they disappear out a side door onto the lot. She squints down the lot while he lights two cigarettes and hands her one. It's quiet, for the most part. Everyone is working.

She takes a deep drag of her cigarette and gives him a smile that has just a shade of impudence to it, as if she knows what he's thinking. She blows out the smoke between cupid bow lips, he notices that shape all the time, and looks out at him from under her lashes. _Wench_ , he thinks.

He looks her over in her angelic blue and white Irene Castle Sunday dress and says, "There's something about you dressed up as a pretty little virgin that's..." He smokes, consuming her visually.

"What, wrong?" she suggests, and shakes his head.    

"No," he says, considering her. "Irresistible, maybe."

He watches her smile blossom. One eyebrow arches for the briefest moment. "Really? Why?"

"Mostly because I know you're not a virgin," he says, like he likes the idea.

"Hm," she says, looking him up and down. "You know, you're right about that." She flicks the ash from her cigarette expertly away and looks very amused.

"Do you think Irene would do that?" he asks.

"Do what?"

"Just give up her virginity to Vernon?"

She grins. "Absolutely."

He starts to laugh. "Don't just say that because you want to fuck me in general."

She starts to laugh too. "Oh, stop it. They're in love. They're going to have lots of sex."

"No, I mean on that first time," he says. "Because if it were me I'd be driving you to the nearest bed."

"I'm sure he wooed her a little more than that," she says. "Chocolates, you know."

"Yeah, yeah," he says, pulling on the cigarette and smiling at her like he loves her. "What've you got on under that dress?"

She makes a face. "Too much," she says. "Layers. Bloomers, petticoat, the whole thing." She pulls up her skirt to show him the layers of fine fabric. Underneath are delicately-embroidered bloomers tied with bows at her knees, and stockings. It is all period-correct. He doesn't envy her, but he does think she looks very nice. A huge bow decorates her hair. He loves that it's longer now; she'd been growing it all year in preparation for the role. It was all very becoming, and the sight of her dragging on a cigarette and slouching like a sullen college girl makes her look unbelievably sexy. He's fascinated, for the millionth time.

They finish their cigarettes with easy conversation about nothing in particular. He opens the door for her to go back inside and as she passes him he caresses her hip in a very intimate way indeed. She throws him a smile over her shoulder and goes ahead of him back onto the set.

She's none the worse for the wear, but he feels a little ragged. The juxtaposition of the dress and the attitude is distracting in the best way.

It takes another hour for the problem to be resolved, and she spends it reading with her shoes tumbled by her folding chair. He goes and has another cigarette and when they're finally ready to shoot her Irene has just a touch of flirtatiousness to it that he knows is all her. She can't hide it all the time and he likes that. _Wench_ , he thinks again, affectionately.


End file.
